Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 39764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 199(@200wpm)___ 159(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 199(@200wpm)___ 159(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
Mouth gaping open, I stare at my father. This from the man who’s driven me for years. Nothing I do ever seems good enough. Second place is first loser. Quitting is the professional equivalent of a noose.
But now I’m hearing a different tune.
“I don’t understand.”
“I know.” He sighs heavily and sits on one of the little wooden chairs we’ve had forever. “I pushed you and pushed you. I don’t think I realized until just now that I did it because I wanted to make up for what I did to your mother. She never said that she regretted her decision. But I’d catch her every so often holding her toe shoes with a wistful look on her face. I suspect she always wondered what could have been. I didn’t want you wondering, too.”
I gape, shock ricocheting through me. My father intentionally killed my mother’s dance dream? Apparently, and he regretted it like hell. For years, he fueled my ambition. As a child, I thought he’d have me follow my brothers into one of their respective sports, but he specifically signed me up for dance class after dance class. Now I know why. But…
“You sound as if you’re encouraging me to stay with Alejandro. Why the change in attitude?”
He stirs his cooling coffee. “I don’t think your mother regretted her decision to leave dance and marry, per se. After she was gone, I realized how short her life was cut and that I prevented her from fulfilling her dream. I hated myself for standing in her way. Still, most of my memories are of her smiling. Your mother used to have this one little grin when she was particularly happy. A little lopsided, with a dimple in her left cheek and a twinkle in her eye. When I think about that smile now, I know she was at peace with her life.” My father pauses. “Until this morning, I’d never seen that smile on you. But there was a moment when you got out of your car. I was watching through the window. I saw that exact smile on your face. I’m guessing Alejandro put it there.”
He did. When I push aside my tumult about tomorrow’s competition, happiness sneaks in, again and again. The thought that after last night, I might never see Alejandro again gouges me with deep shards of pain. It shouldn’t. Our relationship is so new. Intense, yes, but nothing to build a lifetime on, right?
Why do I feel like I’m selling us short?
“He sounds like the kind of guy who wouldn’t demand you give up your dream,” my father says. “If he can make you happy and give you the freedom to pursue what you want professionally, why aren’t you grabbing onto him with both hands?”
“Because with Alejandro as a distraction, I may never win.”
“Would you rather lose a competition or the man you love?”
Ouch. “It’s not that simple, Dad. If I divide my time, I won’t be as dedicated. If I never become a champion, you won’t think I’m weak?”
“Would it really matter if I did?”
I pause and consider Dad's question. Alejandro’s love or my dad’s approval? No choice. “It would bother me if you weren’t proud, but I’m an adult.” I draw in a deep breath as my realization becomes an admission. “I should be doing what makes me happy, not everyone else.”
“Exactly, and I think you need a man’s love more than Daddy’s blessing. But I'll support you no matter what.”
His words warm me. Emotion clogs my throat. “You know Jason, Ash, and Kyle will make fun of me if I choose Alejandro over ambition.”
My dad rolls his eyes. “They’ll make fun of you no matter what you do. They’re convinced that’s their prerogative as big brothers.”
In spite of the weirdness of this conversation, I laugh. “Okay, that's probably true.” Then my smile fades as something occurs to me. “I’m not sure this...thing with Alejandro will be as simple as me expressing my feelings. Let’s just say I’ve played very hard to get. He may not be talking to me after I, um…sneaked out on him this morning.”
“Then send him tickets to tomorrow’s competition. I'll bet he shows. I want to meet the man who managed to see the real you and values the woman under the costumes.”
“You’re coming tomorrow?”
He reaches across the table and squeezes my hand. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Whether you’re crowned champion of the ballroom or of Alejandro’s heart, I’m proud no matter what.”
Iwait in the darkened corner of the ballroom’s dance floor, drawing in a deep breath, smoothing my hair, straightening my sleeve, shifting my weight. And I scan the crowd—again.
No sign of Alejandro.
“You must not fidget,” Kristoff says.
If I wasn’t so nervous, I would laugh. Why not just tell me to stop breathing? “I know. Sorry."